Relapse

Even though I've been feeling real well ever since I got back from visiting both families last month, an old feeling has been creeping into my psyche—relapse. I'm attributing it to the entire month of August, which was Dennis's least favorite month of the year. The biggest pitfall of the month was just this past Thursday, which was the two-year anniversary of when we received his diagnosis of ALS. In my own mind, I've always referred to it as his "death sentence"—because that's what it was (even though I never mentioned that to Dennis, he probably would have agreed with me). Anyone who receives this diagnosis is in the same boat, and Noah is not the captain. Not that it's going to do us any good, but this past week also saw researchers at Northwestern University announce that they feel they've discovered what actually causes ALS, which is a huge leap forward in researching and understanding of this disease.

Why a relapse now? Who knows; I certainly don't. Friday night I was trying to decide what to have for dinner, but before I could start, I had to unload the dishwasher. I still don't remember what my mind frame was at the time or what thoughts crept into my mind, but in the middle of putting away the dishes, I just totally lost it and had the biggest crying spell I've had in recent memory—not just a crying spell, more like a wailing spell. I guess this is just more of the grieving process—you never know what's going to hit you when you least expect it. And of course the feelings of relapse will continue this week, what with our 31st anniversary approaching. How the hell can I "celebrate" our 31st anniversary without him being here? I know that eventually I will be able to have pleasant thoughts about our anniversary, but this first one without him is really hitting me hard. I am so thankful that I have wonderful friends—Tom, Donna & Nancy, Joshua—who will be with me that evening. I'll need their shoulders because I anticipate more wailing on my part. They should all wear vinyl clothing so the tears will roll off instead of sinking in. Who wants to sit around a restaurant with wet shoulders? Just thinking about this Thursday reduces me to tears. Maybe I'll get lucky; all this "pre-crying" might make it easier to get through the night without wailing away too much. It actually did work previously—I didn't "lose it" as much as I thought I would when I went back for the family visit. I had tears, but not as many as I'd imagined beforehand. Only time will tell. But in the meantime, you'd still be smart to buy stock in Kleenex.